High School Rape Lesson

So I'm buttfuckin' this teenage girl. And she's trying her best to scream and cry and beg and escape all at once. But there's really no direction she can squirm. I mean, she's tied up, face-down, spread eagled on my bed. Side-to-side movement creates a "reaming" sensation as my imbedded cock "stirs" her guts. She can't go forward--she's already flat against the mattress. She arched backward, in an attempt to throw me off of her once. Once.

It happened to be at the very moment of my second thrust. Her asshole was so tight, that in spite of my most vicious attempt, I wasn't able to hilt my cock on the first thrust. And just as I began the brutal lunge that would cram the last two inches of my rock-hard cock up her shapely tail, her ass rams back at me in a misguided escape attempt. Silly girl! Even through her panty/duct tape gag, I was worried that my neighbors would hear the agonized scream. They might think someone was being raped. But of course, that was not the case…

She’d sought me out. My screenname is FORCEfantasies2. And she had a force fantasy that she wanted to have fulfilled. She signed the consent form, allowing for bondage, gagging, and full oral, vaginal, and anal penetration. She’d hesitated, asking if she could cross “anal” off the list. She’d tried it once with her boyfriend, but he “couldn’t get it in”. I knew exactly what that meant. He tried, but because it started to hurt, she made him stop. What a bitch! So I gave her the bottom line: No anal, no deal. And she signed. Not exactly a legal, binding contract, especially signed by someone who'd just celebrated her 18th birthday the day before. But it looked official enough, and I’m sure at least she thought it was a valid agreement.

On the ride to my place, she rattled off a whole list of things she’d heard about but never tried. She’d never been “on top”; never had her pussy licked; never deep-throated a cock, because she’d always chickened out. Never been tied up. Never taken more than the very tip of a cock in her ass. And certainly had never been raped. And being the wonderful guy I am, I promised to make all of her little ole dreams come true!

I ripped her clothes off and threw her down on the bed, and proceeded to undertake the items on her “to do” list, one by one. She was loving it! She played her part well, resisting and begging. Trembling with fear; eyes wide with horror. Opening and closing her bound hands in helpless frustration. The only part of her not in full-character was her pussy, which told the true tale by excreting a river of juice which was turning into a ever widening wet-spot as it puddle on the mattress.

We ran into a little misunderstanding when it came to the oral rape. As my cockhead ventured from her mouth into her throat, she tapped me twice on the thigh with one bound palm. Then twice more, as if this were a pre-arranged “time out” signal. It wasn’t. Safe-words and safe-gestures are for amateurs. So I shoved deeper. AND SHE BIT ME! Not hard, and only for a second. But clearly, as a “warning bite”. I yanked my cock all the way out.

“I’m sorry. But I can’t take it that deep. I couldn’t breathe! And I was about to gag on it. So just don’t go so deep, OK? But go ahead. You can go back to raping me now.”

Well, it was pretty obvious to me that she didn’t really “get” this whole rape concept. I pulled a ring gag from my nightstand drawer, and chuckled a bit as her facial expression changed from curiousity to concern, then to horror, just a moment before I wedged the device between her teeth, securing the strap behind her head.

My cock slid thru the metal ring, over her frantic tongue, and right into her throat. I stayed there for a half a minute, knowing full well that she could not breathe at all. I watched her body fight a losing battle to overcome it’s natural urge to gag. Slowly, her back arched, causing her glistening bare pussy to rise toward the ceiling. Then, with shocking suddenness, a severe convulsion wracked her young body. Her sweating tits slapped wetly together, and her throat muscles milked against my cockhead. I pulled out long enough to make sure she wasn’t choking on vomit, but it turned out it was just a dry heave that she’d suffered.

My skull-fucking of this pretty blonde began in earnest. I gave her the full length every time, and she gagged horribly every few strokes, at first. But then, as she learned to control it somehow, she only gagged every ten or twelve strokes. My arms supported all my weight while I throat raped this young girl, and my hands were filled with her big tits, flattening them, holding her firmly in place as I pounded into her mouth over and over. It was tempting to shoot there, draining my nuts straight into her gullet while she gagged and struggled for breath. But there was still one hole left on the ole “to do” list. Reluctantly, after nearly 30 minutes of plundering her warm oral cavity, I retreated.

I figured her jaw must be pretty sore by now, but I was in a hurry to bust that virgin ass, so I had to leave the hole-gag in place. To make it a more effective silencer, I stuffed her red thong panties thru the ring, and secured the opening with three strips of duct tape. Then I repositioned and re-tied her petite body, face down….

Peeling her buns aside, I could immediately see that this was going to be a big problem—for her. She’d probably never actually seen her asshole before. And therefore, by agreeing to allow it to be raped anally, had made a terrible miscalculation of scale. It was a tiny, pink dot, which could be easily covered up with say, a pencil eraser. My cock throbbed painfully at the sight. It seemed like a highly improbable fit.

Sometimes, a St. Bernard mates with a Chihuahua. And this girl was about to know exactly what it feels like to be that Chihuahua. Right down to the bulging eyes, I bet.

She miscalculated a couple of other details, too. Like whether or not I would stop if I were hurting her. After all, her boyfriend did, so I would too, right? I’m sure she realized how wrong she was about that, sometime while enduring the throat-rape of extreme brutality.

The other thing she miscalculated was the simple difference in style between her wimpy boyfriend and me. She knew, deep down, that she could have taken him; could have withstood the pain, IF she had really wanted to. But he was probably gentle, and caring. He probably took his time, trying his best to make sure he wasn’t causing her too much discomfort. He probably used gobs of lube, gently working a finger in and out of her anus while whispering soothing words into her ear.

Me? I RAMMED MY FUCKING COCK AS FAR AS I COULD INTO HER TINY, DRY ASSHOLE WITH ONE THRUST, PULLING BACK ON HER HAIR AND GROWLING "TAKE IT, BITCH!"

“Want me to stop?” I asked, after hilting my cock on the second thrust.

“YES!” she screamed into her gag, ceasing her struggling.

“Are you sure?” I taunted.

“YES!”

“But see, I AM stopped. What else would you like me to do?”

Knowing exactly what she would say, I mouthed the words along with her: “TAKE IT OUT!”

“Ok, if you feel that strongly about it” I whispered, pulling back as she breathed a sigh of relief. When the ring of my cockhead backed up against the inside of her anal ring, I paused. “Are you sure you don’t want me to just ram it back in?” I asked.

“NOOO!” she screamed into the gag, filling the dark silence of the bedroom with that word that I love to hear from chicks, but only when they are as helpless as she was then.

“Well then, Amber, it SUCKS TO BE YOU!” I rammed forward again, hard, this time burying my bone with a single, buttock-flattening lunge. Her struggling/screaming/crying/begging all resumed instantly, as I began stroking quickly, but fully and firmly.

In an attempt to empathize with her, I thought back to the worst pain I’d ever felt. I was thirteen years old when I killed my mother.

Of course, no one blamed me directly, but I knew it was my fault. Too sick to leave the house during her last few years of life, she would send me to the corner store on my bike to purchase the cigarettes she needed. The ones her doctor told her were killing her. Even back then, stores didn’t really approve of selling smokes to kids, but my mom wrote them a note, and that somehow made it alright.

When she did finally succumb, I didn’t take it too well. They said that cancer killed her, and some blamed the doctor for not doing enough to save her. Others blamed the tobacco companies, for selling such a poisonous product. But me, I knew who it was that had really killed her---a thirteen year old on a bike. A shiny new bike…part of the bribe offered to me to overcome my reluctance for running the deadly errands. I don't think I've ever really forgiven my mother for that. It's possible that I'm still harboring a little bit of anger.

Unwilling to speak after the funeral, I was sent to what would now be called “grief-counseling”. Where I learned that there are five stages of grief, which one passes through slowly while grieving. “It takes time to go through these stages” I was told. “Sometimes months, sometimes years.”

But the Psychiatrist had that part wrong. Through the magic of anal rape, I could watch before my eyes as women went through these stages in a matter of minutes, all while impaled on my cock.

You know the stages, don’t you?

1.Denial. “Noooooo!”

2.Barganing. “I’ll do anything else you want, just take it out of there!”

3.Anger. “I’ll kill you when you untie me, motherfucker!"

4.Acceptance. The struggling stops.

5.Depression. The sobs replace the screaming and begging of moments ago.

Little Amber progressed nicely through all of these stages.

I tried to reach beneath her to grasp her big titties, and she fought me a little. “I’ll cum faster if you let me hold your beautiful boobs” I whispered. She raised herself up, as best as she could considering her bonds. I grabbed her hooters, and kept my promise, thrusting quickly toward my climax while her sobs filled the bedroom air, and her tears flowed freely onto the sheets.

She had become quiet, almost catatonic by the time I rolled off and untied her. Which was fine. I’m sure she had a lot to think about. She dressed slowly, stopping periodically to rub her wrists and ankles. The ligatures had left bruises. Her right wrist was almost bleeding, which would have triggered the “no blood” clause in the consent agreement.

But of course, those injuries were self-inflicted, not caused by me. Even when it was clear that the bonds would not give way, she continued to pull against them. Though not uncommon during a brutal anal rape, I’ve found that this is a self-correcting phenomenon. Victims always pull, but only until the struggling hurts worse than the rape which they are struggling to avoid. Judging by the damage to her skin on her wrists and ankles, this was the most painful anal rape I’ve ever committed. I smiled, handing her some lotion.

She didn’t speak during the long drive back to her car, still parked at the McDonalds where she worked. She didn’t offer a goodbye kiss as she got out, or even respond to my “goodbye”. But neither did she slam the door, or run screaming back into the still occupied restaurant. All in all, it was a good rape, and she was a good sport about the whole thing.

I didn’t expect to hear back from her so soon. Or at all, really. I seen she was online, but she didn’t IM me. But finally, I did receive an E-mail, late in the day following our encounter. I’ll quote it here, unedited. Sorry about the spelling and grammar, but hey, she’s just a high-school student, ya know?

"hi,

just riting to let you know that i am alrite, physically and emotionlly. and that last night was the kewlest adventure i had in a long time, it was however the most daring thing i ever done ever. and scary to, but in a rollercoaster type away. my ass is really sore, and my wrists and ankles are kinda bruised, but not too bad, you can barely see the black and blue marks, nobody asks so i guess they can't see them. they hurt worse then they look, but all in all, it was worth it, and if i had another opportunity i would do it again, but not rite away ok. and maybe we could not do the butt thing next time, ok? of course, once i'm tide up, i guess i don't have not much choice, do i. but it hurt real bad. i'm not sure you understand how bad it hurt. god it hurt so bad i couldnot beleve how much it hurt. and i coudnot believe that you wouldnot stop. you must nota nown how much it hurt, or i think you wouldhave stopped. we can still do it again tho if you want. even tho i mite cry again. oh, and my sisters friend brandi sez she wants to try it too.

she sez she doesnt think it will hurt her as bad as i say. she took her bf that way once cuz he said its good birth control. wich is true, rite, i mean, i cannt get prego from u putting your manstuff in thier, rite? shes kinda cute and has a nice ass. at least the boys think so. she says it hurts kinda but not bad. i want to see if she changes her mind after you do it thier to her cuz you are kinda brutal and ruff. no offense. her boobs are smaller than mine tho, so i think yul come back to me even if she likes the hole butthole rape thing. cuz you said you like big boobs right. and mine are pretty big, they are certianly bigger than brandi's. she's a size a cup. call me if you want. i guess i will talk to you later. if you want. you arenot mad at me cuz i tried to squirm away are you. call me. you can call me at work if you want. or stop in. i can give you half off on food. well bi for now.

--Amber

ps my tits are sore to, but i like that.

ps. did you like my tits? i no some girls are bigger. but mine are pretty good rite?"

Now, I know what you’re thinkin’. No one could be have English skills that poor. Some of you are condemning me, saying “Damn! Did you rape a retard? Or a 7 year old?” Well, no, and no. I assure you, she was all of 18. In fact, sometime during the course of our smalltalk, she’d mentioned that she was on the Honor Roll of her local high school. Naturally, after the above message, I found this to be incredulous, so I checked. And it was true, she IS an honor student. Public schools. Geesh. Or maybe she just wanted me to think that she was not too bright. Some girls do play down their smarts, for fear of intimidating men. Hmmmm.